


New Career In A New Town

by fairlightscales



Series: 33 and 1/3 [1]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: 1970s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, New York City, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 12:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19745869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairlightscales/pseuds/fairlightscales
Summary: Guitarist, pianist and vocalist Demelza Poldark and her good friend and drummer, Malcolm McNeil, are staying at the New York City townhouse of bassist, producer and manager, Hugh Armitage to work on tracks for Demelza's album.Demelza's excitement and enjoyment of working and exploring in New York for three months is tempered by a fresh period of self doubt and suspicion in her marriage to her husband, Ross.





	1. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Demelza and Malcolm are the same age. Malcolm has been a devoted friend for three years. Their nicknames for each other are Red and Blue.
> 
> Ross and Hugh are closer in age, Hugh is the younger of the two

Hugh was insistent that Demelza's custom finish Vox guitar not travel with them to New York City. He was keen to have her photographed with it as much as possible, but feared loss or theft.  
"But Hugh," Demelza blinked in confusion, " What will I play on?"  
"Don't worry, Demelza. We'll kit you out when we get there. I'll take you to Manny's."  
Malcolm piped up excitedly, "Oh, Red, you'll love Manny's! It's a wonderful shop!" Malcolm was happy to think of showing Red some of his favorite New York haunts.  
"And useful," said Hugh, "I know you love your Vox but you should try some other brands and get a feel for different guitars."  
Malcolm could not hold back the glee in his voice.  
"They let you try out in the store. Half the blokes in the place will fall down dead when you play there!"  
Demelza was a little perturbed.  
"You mean everyone will hear?"  
"Yes, love. Manny's is like an open bazaar. you plug in and everyone can hear. All sorts! Pros, weekenders, everybody!"  
Demelza looked worried. "I don't think I'd like that..."  
Malcolm put his arm around her as they walked. "You don't have to worry, Red. And Hugh is right, you'll do well to try out on different guitars."

Which is how they found themselves, a month later, in Manny's Music Shop viewing masses and masses of guitars. The store sold everything under the sun and the proprietor, Manny, could be heard barking orders and arranging that equipment be prepared to send over to Madison Square Garden. "They'll need it by 5:00!"  
Demelza went in determined to get a second Vox and scurry away. Hugh insisted that she try other styles. He flashed her the sort of warm, paternal smile shot through with a warning that he not be crossed. The sales help did nothing to strengthen her confidence. They seemed to defer to Hugh even as she asked her own questions.  
"Is there a major difference in sound between the Viper and the Preacher?"  
She had to admit, Hugh was right-she was fascinated by two similar styles of Ovation, an American brand, and wasn't certain that the sound would be the same between them. She'd have to play to know, But she was still looking to avoid it. She wanted the guidance that any musician would want in a shop, but it was clear the salesman saw her as just a girl...he said, condescendingly,  
"The Viper might be good for you..."  
Demelza was incensed. "Good for me how? What are the differences?"  
The salesman, who could not envision Demelza as a serious player, said to Hugh as much as to her,  
"The Preacher is more of a stage performer..."  
Demelza raised her voice in irritation, "I AM a performer!"  
Hugh had seen many different sides of Demelza's personality since they'd met. Malcolm came away from chatting in a different part of the store, to someone he knew, when he heard Red's protest cut across the sales floor. He rejoined Hugh and together they were introduced to a Demelza they had not yet witnessed:

Mrs. Ross Poldark

"I'd like to play the Preacher, please." She said, primly.  
"Yes, of course," the salesman had not changed his dismissive attitude."Do you know how to plug in?"  
Demelza cast a disgusted look at the fender amp he gestured to. A flash of ice blue anger sparkled across her eyes.  
"Yes, but I prefer Orange. Please bring me an Orange amp."  
The salesman glanced at Hugh who kept his face blank and impassive. "One moment..." The salesman left to get an Orange amp. Hugh and Malcolm exchanged an amused glance. Demelza was going to clean his clock.  
The amp was brought to her. She strummed a little before she plugged in, tightened a couple of tuning pegs to get her sound. Satisfied, she plugged in. That a slender, red headed girl was fiddling with an Ovation was already cause for the interest of other shoppers was pretty much assured. That she demanded a different amp caused a bit of mirth among them as well. She strummed a few chords then turned to smile at Hugh and Blue. Malcolm grinned and gleefully whispered "Go on, lass!"  
Demelza played a spirited, girly, absolutely twee version of a Tin Pan Alley song, "Mairzy Doats". She played in an intricate style though, a bit like flamenco. She sang with a bit more of a Cornish burr in her voice;  
"Oh, mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy..."  
But, as she sang the chorus, she looked the salesman dead in the eyes, still playing her difficult fingering without looking and without fault.  
"A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you..."  
Here, she stopped. The store was silent. Still giving a glacial stare of contempt to the floorperson, she played three chords, smiled like an angel and proceeded to play that Ovation Preacher like an assassin.  
Manny, having settled the matter of the Garden order, stuck his head out to see what was happening. The Orange amp was tugging at a memory. he was puzzled. "Who's that girl, Jerry? I've seen her somewhere..." He had a think. "Oh yeah! where's that Orange promo pack from last month?" He and his assistant fumbled about with various papers and found an advertising flat for the "Siren Song" ad she'd done at Nampara Cove. "Thought she was a model..."  
Manny left his office clutching the advert, agog at the spectacle going on in the store. The Orange Amp Girl could play. Extremely well.

People whooped and whistled and there was tremendous excitement when she'd finished, looking round the room with a satisfied smile. Blue cried out "RRREEEEDDDDDDD!" and Hugh was incapable of his customary smirk. Hugh Armitage had a smile on his face like Christmas morning.  
Manny introduced himself, shook her hand and asked Demelza to sign the Orange ad. "Siren Song" with "Love, Demelza" scrawled across it with a marker pen went up on the shop wall the same day. Even if she had not made a splash playing, Hugh insured that the shop took Demelza seriously. Malcolm and Demelza watched Hugh spend money as if it was chaff. He ordered two "Noir" Ovation Preacher guitars, a "Candy Apple Red" Vox teardrop guitar and a mass of guitar strings. He'd thrown in some bits and bobs for Blue (who usually did his New York shopping at Frank Wolf Drummers Supplies) and managed to spend over $2000 American dollars as if he was buying a quarter bag of sweets.  
Demelza and Malcolm walked arm in arm as Hugh hailed a taxi.  
"No one can tell me nothing, Red! You were ace!"  
Demelza squeezed his arm, "I was that angry!" Blue grinned, "I hope I never get you that angry at me!"  
Hugh waved them over and they piled into the cab.  
"Thank you, Hugh!" Demelza turned to Hugh, starry eyed. She woke up this morning with one electric guitar to her name. Now she would rest her head on her pillow tonight owning four incredible guitars.  
"You're welcome, Demelza. You are a professional, you deserve nothing less."  
Hugh turned to smile at Malcolm. "I think that's enough excitement for one day. Didn't you say you knew a good place to eat in Chinatown?"  
"Right, you'll love it! They do the Chinese dumplings, all different kinds! And the tea tastes like flowers but it's amazing, the only drink that goes with 'em!"

Content in all ways, they sped through the city, to Chinatown, for their supper.


	2. What Dreams Are Made Of

"Half a pound of tuppenney rice, half a pound of treacle..."  
Malcolm McNeil was bleary eyed but extremely happy. He lost a drinking game with Hugh last night and, as the loser, had to stand on the edge of Union Square at 14th Street and busk on one of Hugh's acoustic guitars. He was only allowed to play nursery rhymes and had to perform for a half an hour.   
The indignity of busking Row Row Row Your Boat and other silly songs was lessened by Demelza's laughter, Peter Gabriel and Tony Levin coming by, briefly, to see how the bet came off and the heady feeling of knowing things were happening as he had dreamed them to be. Demelza was working on her album after having excellent success with two singles, back in England. They were a strong unit live and were welcomed with open arms into the community of British expat musicians working in New York. Hugh Armitage had opened doors for Demelza through his canny approach to management, honed in France. He made several female performers into popular stars using their innate talents, aspects of their personalities and judicious use of the media to build a strong fan base organically and general interest from the public at large. Hugh enjoyed plotting out strategy like a military campaign or a high stakes game and came out the winner more often than not. He wanted to try his techniques with an English girl and, as luck would have it, met Malcolm through a mutual friend. When Malcolm suggested Demelza Poldark as a good candidate for Hugh's project, he didn't realize how quickly it could go from a chance conversation to reality. Malcolm was over the moon.  
He kept singing songs like Ring A Ring Of Roses and bearing the confused stares and indifference of people passing by with good grace. Nearby, Demelza sat next to Hugh on a park bench, looking a bit of a beatnik in a short black skirt, black tights, a sleek, dark blue turtleneck sweater and little black, flat shoes. Hugh looked the picture of cool in dark sunglasses, black denim jeans and a black trench coat. She laughed and laughed at each new song and then joined in singing with Malcolm as he started "Girls And Boys Come Out To Play":

Girls and boys come out to play  
The moon it shines as bright as day  
Leave your supper and leave your sleep  
And come to your playmates in the street  
Come with a whoop, come with a call  
Come with goodwill, or not at all  
Up the ladder and down the wall  
A halfpenney bun will serve us all!

Before this point, onlookers had passed Malcolm by or looked at him as if he were crazy. As they sang, people started to gather to watch. A splash of spare change started to collect in the guitar case, open by Malcolm's feet. Hugh and Demelza, still seated on the bench, stomped their feet and clapped their hands as Malcolm played the melody and sang along with Demelza. They finished to a smattering of applause. Malcolm's half an hour was up. Hugh produced a harmonica from his coat pocket and asked Malcolm if he knew "My Babe", "Yeah! I know that one!" Malcolm, though primarily a drummer, did know his way around a guitar. He started playing a blues riff. He and Hugh turned toward Demelza and sang to her as she clapped in time and the crowd around them clapped with her. Hugh's smile was infectious. Demelza beamed back at him. If he was honest, he had to admit that he and Malcolm were flirting with her. Hugh sang the main lyric and Malcolm backed him up:

I love the way she walks  
Yeah, she walks  
I love the way she talks  
Yeah, she talks  
Makes me feel so good  
yeah, so good  
Just like a good boy should  
Yeah, he should  
She never makes me cry, and here's why, she's my babe  
My babe, my babe

With Malcolm still strumming his riff, Hugh played a bluesy harmonica solo. More onlookers stopped to watch and clap along with Demelza. Together, Hugh and Malcolm sang the next verse:

Nothing could be better than to see her in a sweater and a tight skirt that won't quit!  
Nothing could be better than to see her in a sweater and a tight skirt that won't quit!  
I'm warm for her form, but people let me tell you that's it!

They sparred with their instruments, Hugh played another run on his harmonica and then Malcolm played out as they finished singing "My Babe", trading lines in the short chorus and ending on Hugh's harmonica. The crowd around them cheered and the guitar case filled with a constellation of spare change and even some dollar bills. It wasn't until a man turned to Hugh and said, "God bless you, man." as he tossed money into the case that they realized Hugh's dark glasses made some of the crowd think he was a blind performer. Malcolm and Demelza laughed. Hugh simply smiled a tight little smile. He had declined to mention his health problems or the specialist he was due to see on Friday. Hugh kept that knowledge to himself.  
Malcolm scooped the money out of the case, stuffed it in his pockets and put the guitar away. He slung the case over his shoulder. They walked on 14th Street towards Second Avenue. Malcolm knew of a small cafe where they could have coffee. They passed discount stores and antique shops, little grocery stores and shops selling second hand goods. The city was an endless tapestry of interesting things and interesting people. Malcolm and Hugh knew the city well. Malcolm's New York was a downtown, bohemian world and Hugh's was an uptown, upscale one. Hugh would take them to a smart, midtown Japanese restaurant and Malcolm would take them to a dumpling house in Chinatown. Hugh knew many places to buy sheet music and books and records for a moneyed clientele and Malcolm knew his way around the dollar record bins and second hand shops. Demelza was fascinated by both worlds and their zeal for showing her their haunts drew them closer together. They became friends and loyal band mates on this trip. Hugh and Malcolm respected each others strengths and considered it their duty to show Demelza as much fun from each of their respective worlds as possible.

"Who did 'My Babe' ?" asked Demelza as they approached the cafe.  
"Spencer Davis Group!" Malcolm said without hesitation.  
"No!" Hugh's voice went up an octave in his humor, "That was the Righteous Brothers, based on a song by Willie Dixon!"  
"Is it?!" asked Malcolm in surprise, "I know it from watching Pop Gear!" The three of them seemed to find the phrase "Pop Gear" hilarious and they burst into the little coffee shop still laughing.

Demelza did not care for coffee, but she soon came to realize it was easier to get a good cup of coffee in New York than a decent cup of tea. Hugh suggested that she try a mocha which had chocolate in it. This coffee drink she found to her taste. Hugh had his cappuccino, another coffee that mystified Demelza as it seemed a strange thing to pay more for not very much to drink. Malcolm took his coffee as he took his tea - very milky and sweet. Hugh watched Malcolm spooning in, what seemed to Hugh, far too much sugar with dismay.  
"One wonders if the spoon will stand up in the cup!" Malcolm gave a bashful shrug, "I'm too set in my ways to change now..."

They sat in the spindly wrought iron chairs of the cafe in companionable silence. A brindled cat dozed on the window sill amidst a small forest of potted plants. A man, sitting nearby with a sketchbook, spent time drawing Demelza. The hiss of steaming milk and clatter of ceramic cups mixed with a Byrds record playing just loud enough to hear. The murmur of others talking strengthened the sense of calm and enjoyment of not having to do much of anything.   
Hugh was a big believer of building a lot of leisure time into his artist's schedules. He demanded a great deal of work from his charges but made sure that rest and enjoyment were a priority. On Monday they would start long studio sessions and he made a point of spacing out the work, interviews, photo shoots and meetings so that they would not be overwhelmed. For Hugh, making his performers feel like every aspect of the business was a grand adventure worked to his advantage. It was one of the ways he built loyalty for it did not take effort to see other performers rushed off their feet at a breakneck pace and consider themselves lucky to be under Hugh's wing. Like a magician with a magic wand, getting the same workload completed with superior results, but at a more humane pace.  
Hugh liked to be a mentor and a friend to the performers he worked with. He came to know their likes and dislikes, goals and dreams and made himself a valuable conduit for giving them all that they wanted. His boyish good looks gave him a romantic reputation. Indeed, while he avoided romantic involvement he did, absolutely, trade on his looks and demeanor in a way that made the ladies dream and fall a little bit in love with him. It was, he felt, an easy way to bind his artists to him and he was careful to remain a figure of fantasy rather than hurt them or lead them on. It was as delicate as dance as the way he plotted careers. but lately, distressed by the decline of his health, he found himself more drawn to Demelza Poldark and less able to remain detached. Hugh had fallen in love with her. So his gallant ways that served him in France started to lose the fences and demarcations that helped him avoid entanglements. He was also aware that Malcolm was crazy about her. They both maintained the decorum that Demelza was due as a married woman. They treated her as brothers would do. They enjoyed the camaraderie of being a trio and did not press her to consider them in a romantic way. But, beneath the skin, for both of them, they had both fallen hard for the young woman sipping her mocha with glittering, laughing eyes. Hugh reminded himself to be sensible, to simply be happy to be working with her. He chided himself as he finished his drink. He was getting old and the complications of his health shouldn't be an excuse to cross the boundaries of a working relationship. He was better than that...

Having finished their drinks they walked around the streets of the East Village. The streets around them were like a kaleidoscope of small churches and synagogues, cheek by jowl with bars, shops, empty lots, apartment buildings, restaurants and every sort of person, every age, every description hurrying where ever they were bound. There was a grubbiness to New York that was repellent to Demelza at first. But she soon became accepting of the crumbly streets and rubbish strewn about. It became part of what was. A complex jumble of contradictions, juxtapositions, old and new, fast moving and exciting. She felt herself becoming more and more able to fit herself into New York City and see its strengths and magic beyond its untidy and occasionally scary first glance.

They had no fixed plan today, other than watching Malcolm discharge his responsibility to busk in the street. They walked along and passed a shoe store. After a moment Malcolm and Hugh soon realized that Demelza had stopped to look in the window. Some yards away, they watched her stare ardently into the shop display. They walked back towards her and came to stand on either side of her.  
In the center of the window of the display of fine leather shoes sat the most wondrous pair of boots Demelza had ever seen.


	3. Stepping Out

"Aren't they amazing?" Demelza pressed her fingertips against the shop window, staring at a marvelous pair of tall boots.They were caramel brown, shearling boots, very tailored, with stacked high heels that were not as thick as the regular platform style. They were too dainty to be real. The tops were slit at the back to accommodate bending at the knee and had glossy, fluffy bone white sheepskin on the inside. They were slender and sexy but looked comfy and warm despite the extremities of the heels. Demelza was enchanted.  
"If shepherds were highway men..." said Hugh, watching Demelza gaze at the boots in the window.  
Malcolm quipped, "Red couldn't be a highway man in them, she'd fall over before she could draw her pistol!"  
"Blue!" Demelza protested, "You think I can't walk in them?"  
"They're awfully high heels. Red..."  
Demelza crossed her arms in annoyance. Hugh watched their stand off with amusement.  
"Well, there's only one way to find out!"  
A cluster of bells rang out as the door opened into the small shoe shop. The smell of leather was like a perfume and they were surrounded by beautiful shoes of every description. A cheerful, older man in shirt sleeves and a dark blue apron, behind the counter smiled and asked, "May I help you?"  
"Yes please," said Demelza, nearly dancing in front of him, "I'd like to try on the shearling boots in the window."  
The shopkeeper smiled, "Oh! they are brand new this week, please have a seat."  
Malcolm and Hugh stood by the counter amidst shoes,tins and bottles of polish, leather conditioners and a sleeping cat. The shopkeeper measured Demelza's feet and scurried into a back room to retrieve the correct size. He returned with an enormous boot box, tall with a handle on its top and elegant script printed on it in Italian. Demelza held her breath as he opened the boot box and presented the right boot to try on. She stood and placed her right foot in the boot. The man held the top to help her slide her leg inside. He gave her the left boot and she stood nearly to a height to Hugh and Blue on the pretty, figured carpet of the shop floor. She walked towards the mirror the shopkeeper gestured her to and stared at her reflection.  
"Judas!"  
The boots were sensational. They clung to her legs as if they had been sprayed on. They lengthened her legs and the ankles tapered into the heels that were thick enough to give good support but shaped in a slim style that set them apart from the chunky heeled platforms that were everywhere. The shearling cuffs framed the backs of her knees with collar that gave freedom of movement and the leather was buttery soft.  
"The leather will age beautifully!" gushed the storekeeper, "They will darken and have a wonderful patina!"  
Hugh watched Demelza intently. Her eyes were glittering with happiness and he wanted to make sure she kept that happy look.  
"Walk a little more in them. If you find them comfortable, I'll buy them for you."  
"Hugh! Do you really mean it?!"  
"Yes!" laughed Hugh, "But you should be certain you are secure in them."  
She paced around the shop. Malcolm had to admit, she walked in them perfectly well and looked like a million dollars. "I take it all back, Red. Those boots are smashing and you walk in them just fine!"  
The next few minutes were a flurry of leather lotions, the correct color polish and a special polishing brush. All the purchases and the shoes she had been wearing were nestled into the boot box as Demelza wanted to were them out of the shop. As Hugh paid at the old fashioned grey cash register, a voice called out, "Dad!" and a clop, clop, clop of wood soled clogs could be heard banging down a back stair. A young blonde girl,perhaps college age, perhaps a bit younger in a red corduroy pinafore, black turtleneck and grey knit tights came into the room. She stopped short when she saw Demelza by the counter in the new boots.  
"Oh! Are you getting them?! You look amazing! They came from Italy just this week!"  
She looked from Demelza to Hugh and Malcolm who had the guitar case on his back from busking, Her eyes widened. "Are you famous?!"  
Demelza ducked her chin and laughed. A little blush colored each cheek.  
"Only a little bit famous..."  
"Oh my gosh! Dad, we should take their picture!" she turned to Demelza again, " May I take your picture? For the shop?"  
She pointed to the wall behind them. In dime store frames, hung up by the ceiling, along the wall of the front door were snapshot of customers in their new shoes. As one got closer you could see Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Robert Plant as well as movie stars, Broadway performers, other well known musicians and people who were not famous but so stylish and chic that they were asked to pose. Demelza looked to Hugh who was grinning from ear to ear.  
"Yes," said Hugh, "I think that's a marvelous idea!"  
Clomp, clomp clomp... the girl rushed back up the steps to get the camera. They stood in front of the counter, Hugh with his sunglasses, Demelza in the center and Malcolm put his arm around her shoulder. The boots made her tall enough that he could feel the difference and had to bring his arm up a little higher than usual.  
"ClicK!"  
"You should take one with Demelza on her own, for the boots sake." Hugh took Demelza by the hand and led her to the center of the small shop. The shopkeeper's daughter took the picture twice, to be sure that the picture came out well. Later the picture was tucked next to the sample boots in the shop window. "Write down your names," the girl laid a plain sheet of paper on the counter, "We put them on the back of the frame with the date on." The girl smiled. She could tell the picture would make the boots sell out, even though they were the most expensive style. With a great deal of thanks and compliments from both sides, Demelza, Hugh and Malcolm left the shop and started to walk up the pavement toward Astor Place. Demelza was very happy and proud of her new boots and enjoyed the glances of approval from others on the street and the occasional wolf whistle.  
As they came toward an island cross walk they saw a strange statue. It was a large, black cube, set up on one point. Hugh mentioned they might visit the sheet music store a bit beyond the odd cube, as it had a very good selection. Malcolm saw Demelza looking puzzled over the statue and said, "You know that actually spins around on its point?"  
Her eyes widened, "Really, How?"  
"You can push on one side of it and it'll turn."  
Hugh, Malcolm and Demelza approached the cube and after considering each face, chose a side to try it. They struggled a little, at first, to make it move at all. Then, slowly, the cube began to turn and they pushed along in a circle with Demelza giggling and pushing forward on tip toe in her glamorous boots. Hugh stepped back and looked at it as he moved to tuck the boot box back under his arm.  
"I'm sure there's a crying need for that..."  
"Hugh! I think it's wonderful!" Demelza chided him and he smirked, "Well, it's good exercise , at least..."They crossed Broadway and walked down 8th Street full of little boutiques and stores. "Oh!" Hugh remembered suddenly, "Cook is off on Sunday, do you want to eat out or stay in?"  
"Oooh! Let's stay in! We could do a roast!" Demelza clapped her hands in delight as she said it, nearly in time with the "clop, clop " of her steps in her heeled boots.  
Malcolm nodded, "We should take her up on that, Hugh. I still dream about the meals I've had at Nampara!"  
"I know just where to go for provisions!" Hugh declared, "We'll get everything now so tomorrow we'll only have to get the papers!"  
They followed Hugh through the crowded streets of the West Village and came to a gourmet shop that had red brick walls on the inside. It was a bit like walking into a cave. Malcolm procured a basket and they began the serious business of shopping.  
"Have we got jam?" asked Demelza,  
"We've lemon curd, I think," Hugh scanned the wall of jam jars in front of them.  
"Let's have strawberry," Demelza reached for a jar and Malcolm cried out in alarm,  
"Don't get that one! You want 'Little Scarlett', the one next to it!"  
Hugh gave a little snort of laughter, "I didn't realize you had Opinions about jam, Malcolm..."  
"Why 'Little Scarlett', Blue?" Demelza turned to him, amused.  
"It tastes better!" Malcolm explained as if he were lecturing school children. "And besides," he perked up with a gleeful laugh, "It's your namesake, innit?"  
All three of them laughed hard enough , other shoppers in the store turned to look at them. Little Scarlett was placed in the basket.  
"They have crumpets!" Demelza plucked them from a shelf.  
"Get the Chimay butter!" It seemed Hugh set store by butter as Malcolm did jam.  
After a great deal of conversation and weighing of options, they decided upon a pork loin roast. Sage, the most dainty, jewel like yellow potatoes Demelza had ever seen, in a netting bag, parsley, carrots and a small pot of mustard that cost the earth all nestled into the bag, now held by Hugh who could maneuver the small aisles with the boot box a little more easily than Malcolm with the guitar hanging over his shoulder. Blue was pressed into service holding a baguette and a snow white loaf of bread in a paper bag. Demelza held a bag of apples, oranges and two lemons.  
Hugh in his sunglasses, Demelza in her fabulous boots and Malcolm with the guitar case looked every inch like proper rock stars, thought Demelza. We might even look like proper New Yorkers! Cheered by that thought, she mimicked an American accent,  
"We'll have apple crumble for pudding..."  
Blue laughed like a drain.  
"What?!" asked Demelza , still clinging to her American accent and clearly annoyed.  
Hugh chuckled gently, "An American would say 'dessert', not pudding."  
Malcolm chimed in, " Pudding over here is like blancmange or Angel's Delight!"  
Demelza harumphed and that made the boys giggle more.  
The cashier rang up their purchases and complimented Demelza's boots. They each carried shopping bags out of the store and Hugh hailed a cab. They piled the groceries, boot box and guitar in the trunk and slid into the back seat.  
Demelza sat, flanked by her bandmates and felt a delicious tiredness come over her. They'd had so much fun today, doing silly and ordinary errands but held in such glamour by their surroundings. The old buildings and new towers passed the taxi window. Tomorrow, Sunday, they would spend a quiet day at the house. Monday they would begin work in the studio. Hugh said they should come away with at least two album worthy tracks from this trip. He felt that having New York production credits would be very important when the record was released. he explained it would give her firmer ground at WEA if she was seen as "the total package" out of the starting gate.  
The traffic lights were red, yellow and green. The sun was going down. As the cab crossed the intersections Demelza could see rows and rows of red car lights and traffic lights stretching out far into the distance. People walking, children wheeled in push chairs or skipping along side their parents or nannies. She hoped Jeremy and Clowance were content. She missed them but the excitement of her New York adventure prevented her from being as fretful over their separation as she thought she might be when she left to go. they could always be proud of their Papa's career, perhaps they could be proud of their Mama as well...  
"Demelza, we're back." Demelza could feel cool air from the open car door and Hugh's warm breath near her ear as he gently woke her. Malcolm was already retrieving the guitar and some of the shopping from the boot of the taxi. It was dusk now.  
They chatted amiably as they put the shopping away. Cook had made a hearty fish pie for supper. Hugh put Beethoven on the stereo. They clinked their beer bottles, lauded Cook for her delicious pie and settled in the living room pleasantly full and playing more records. Demelza wore her tights in her stocking feet, having finally brought herself to take the boots off and lay them like holy relics in her room. She sat with the boys for about an hour, then went up to her room.  
"Night, Red!"  
"Goodnight, Demelza."  
"Night, Blue! Night, Hugh!"  
Hugh started leafing through Cashbox Magazine. The last record had ended and neither Hugh or Malcolm moved to put something else on. In a low voice, Malcolm asked,  
"Did you buy those boots with the advance?"  
Hugh looked up from the magazine, shook his head "No." and lifted a finger to forestall more talk. He took the last record off the turntable and replaced it with Ravel. It was not too loud but he turned the volume up a bit more to mask their talking if Demelza should come back downstairs.  
"No, I bought them myself. I consider it money well spent, they were not expensive for what they are. I'm not trying to spoil her but we need to keep her happy. We start up at Ladyland Monday, I don't want her pining for boots and, more importantly, I don't want her pining for Ross." I want her to have New York like a magic carpet so she can focus on herself."  
Malcolm nodded in agreement. Hugh continued,  
"Whistle test was fantastic, but she was STILL reacting to Ross. I don't know what he's done to her now, but it's the wrong use of her energy. she needs to stop seeing herself through Ross' eyes."  
"Yes, I said as much to her some time back." Malcolm frowned, "She hasn't told me either, but Ross has Red rattled, for certain sure."  
Hugh grumbled, "What has Ross ever done for her except give her heartache and children?"  
"And one that's not hers..." Malcolm muttered darkly.  
"Exactly!" Hugh hissed, " How can he have a good and loving wife like Demelza and disregard her at every turn? She lived under her father's thumb and now she lives under Ross'!"  
Malcolm said thoughtfully, "He's not quite on board with all this as well..."  
Hugh nodded, "That's another reason to treat her like a princess. It's up to us to make her happy, to make her trust us, for when we get back to London...do you want whiskey?" Hugh got up and went into the smaller sitting room. He returned with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "But just a taste, we drank too hard the other night," Hugh smiled.  
Malcolm shook his head, laughing, "I don't know how you put down all that drink! You'll see us all off, Hugh!"  
Hugh said, still smiling, "Oh, I have to take some meetings on Friday. Can you take Demelza to the Metropolitan Museum?"  
"Sure, I haven't been there in ages!" Malcolm sipped his drink.  
"I don't want her to go back to London without having been there."  
Malcolm recalled Hugh was going to tell him something about going back to England. "You were saying...?"  
Hugh sighed and lowered his voice more.  
"I need her to trust me because I'm going to ask her to do something that she may not want to do."  
"What?" Malcolm whispered.  
Hugh spoke into his whiskey with his eyes averted. "I want her to go on the pill and not tell Ross."  
Malcolm gawped at Hugh in disbelief. Hugh's face twisted into a scowl. "In truth, I got the visa sorted immediately. not just because I wanted her to have New York studio time, but because, so long as the Poldarks keep that London house, even getting her out of Cornwall isn't safe enough." He took another sip. " Demelza is a loving mother and takes care of her children. That means she's only ever one sweet talk away from Ross knocking her up."  
Malcolm never once heard Hugh speak in terms like that and stared at Hugh. Hugh continued. " And Ross is a selfish and destructive person. He'd get her pregnant just to throw a spanner in the works. Do you know Demelza didn't even get her money from 'Valley Of Bread'?" Malcolm's scowl now matched Hugh's.  
"No, I suspected as much..."  
Hugh hissed like a snake, whispering, "I thought I'd have to negotiate her out of a contract. Ross did NOTHING for her, do you hear? 'Valley Of Bread' is a Resurgam release. She should have been paid her fair share. That album was popular but Ross didn't give her a brass farthing!"  
Malcolm had thought Ross was neglectful of Red's prospects but hearing the truth of the matter made him angry.  
Hugh laughed a bitter bark of a laugh, " That deal with Orange Amps was the first money of her own she ever made!"  
Malcolm thought back to the Nampara photo shoot, "He didn't like that either..."  
Hugh grimaced, "No, he just wants her dependent on him!"  
Macolm sighed, lock her away with a bunch of bairns...Malcolm had called it long ago. He'd seen the transparent ploy to win Demelza back, playing on Top Of The Pops... brought her back home and got Clowance on her as soon as possible. And entangle himself with his cousin's widow and got her pregnant too. Hugh was being Machiavellian but he was not wrong. Ross' playbook had been always been open. Malcolm nodded in agreement. They called it a night. Malcolm went upstairs and saw Red's door ajar. He felt a trickle of fear that she might have heard what they had said, but realized that wasn't possible.  
"You still up, Red?'  
"Not for much longer, good night Blue!"  
"Night, love."  
As he passed, he looked in and saw her reflection in the old fashioned, full length mirror in the corner of the room. He smiled. She wore a lace trimmed slip, her tights and had her boots back on. She had her new red Vox strapped on posing in the mirror and dreaming her rock star dreams.  
He closed the door to his room, brushed his teeth, readied himself for bed and lay on his back, head on his hands, staring idly at the ceiling. Red looked like a teenager playing dress up, she didn't look old enough to be the mother of three. She didn't look old enough to know the pain of losing a child. She was sweet and optimistic. Ross had saved her from a difficult upbringing and taught her how play guitar and piano. Ross looked after her and made her his wife, but Ross faltered. Red was swimming upstream, dealing with so many problems in her marriage. She deserved to have her own life and the success that was her due. Malcolm closed his eyes. It was down to them. He and Hugh would be the guardians at the gate of Red's dreams and protect her from what might stand in the way.


	4. Supernatural Thing

"Clop, clop,clop..."  
Hugh started to wonder if they would have to take Demelza's boots to a cobbler before they went back to England. If she kept wearing them day after day the heels would be run down...  
Hugh, Malcolm and Demelza were walking down 19th Street on their way back to Hugh's house, when Demelza spied a storefront that baffled her. It was a small shop with green and pink neon signs , "Open 7 days, Tarot Readings" lit in the daytime, fairy lights framing a strange assortment of statues and books, candles and crystals. Black and white drawings of satyrs were set in each corner of the window.  
"That's an occult shop," explained Hugh.  
"Magic and that..." Malcolm did not hide his discomfort.  
"Yes, my grandfather used to frequent a different bookshop not too far from here." Hugh enjoyed the memory of feeling very grown up amidst all the old books in that shop when he would accompany his grandpapa.  
"So was your grandda a warlock, then?"  
Hugh cast a withering look at Malcolm.  
"No. He had an interest in Eastern religions and that shop had many rare books on the subject."  
"Can we look?" Demelza had never been in an occult shop. The dark little store with its little glimmers of light fascinated her.  
They crossed the street and went in. To the left was a tall counter and a young woman sitting perched on a stool by the cash register. Malcolm half expected an old crone to be sitting in the shop with a crystal ball. This girl was modestly dressed in a light blue tee shirt and long denim skirt. The only suggestion of the occult about her was a pendant hanging on a chain around her neck. It looked like a little pyramid made out of a milky, pink stone. Her dark hair was long and loose down her back and she appraised them with quiet brown eyes.  
"Do you need assistance?"  
Demelza ducked her chin a little.   
"Um, no. We just wanted to look, if that's alright?"  
Demelza seemed a bit fearful as she looked about the place. It didn't seem to be a store that suffered fools. Everything looked very serious.  
"Please, feel free." The shop girl returned to her book of inscrutable symbols.  
There was a wall full of glass jars, each labeled by hand as to the contents. There were books everywhere but unlike the shop Hugh mentioned they were modern, paperbacks and pamphlets for the most part. Around the small room there were various cases and vitrines holding all manner of jewelry, daggers, cards and odd objects. Past the counter was a wall of shelves filled with candles. They were in all colors, all sizes, some poured in tall glasses and some molded into shapes.  
Demelza walked forward to look at the candles that were shaped like men and women. There was a larger, double candle of a man and a woman standing side by side and individual candles of one or the other. They all had wicks at the top of their heads. Malcolm and Hugh exchanged a look between them. Hugh cleared his throat and gently suggested to Demelza that Ross didn't seem the type to be controlled by a magic candle. Demelza gave them both a dirty look of annoyance.  
"I was just looking..."  
Malcolm looked into one of the jewelry displays. "Fuckin' hell! They say this necklace is carved from human bones!"  
Hugh came to stand by Malcolm and laughed, "Look at the fine print!"  
Malcolm looked at the card again. In the corner, written by hand in parenthesis it said, "probably monkey"  
"Ugh!" Malcolm shuddered in distaste, "I wouldn't want that either way!"  
Hugh gazed at the case of ceremonial jewelry and enjoyed a brief daydream of Demelza laden with gems and ropes and ropes of intricately carved beaded necklaces, like the pictures of Indian goddesses in his grandfather's books. Or a flame haired queen in a witch's garter and a proud gaze...he snapped back to reality and clapped a hand on Malcolm's shoulder.  
"Not to worry, Malcolm. What ever its source, it's only a necklace..."  
Malcolm nodded, but when he turned and caught a glance of the shop girl he saw her eyebrow arched as if to say, "Really..."  
Demelza started looking at the many different packs of tarot cards in another case.  
"Ross' aunt reads tarot cards..."  
Demelza had never been in a shop that sold tarot cards and marveled at the many packs in their boxes. She never knew there could be so many and so different to each other.   
"I knew a woman on our street who read playing cards like you would read these ones." Demelza had a fond memory of eating chocolate digestives in Meggy Dawes' house as one of the few genuinely nice moments of her childhood.  
"Was she a witch then, Red?" Malcolm asked, a little alarmed.  
"Maybe she was..." She looked at one pack that seemed prettier that the rest.  
"Miss, May I see this pack of cards?"  
The shop girl opened the case with a small gilt key and placed the box on top of the counter. Hugh and Malcolm stood on either side of Demelza, peering at the deck over her shoulders.  
There was a reproduction of "The Lovers" card printed on the box and Demelza suddenly wished she could think herself back to Meggy Dawes' cozy rooms and remember some of the advice she had given some of the neighborhood women who sat, either tearful or angry, in her front room as Demelza ate her biscuits or played with Meggy's cat. They wanted the same answers she searched for now- how to keep your man...But wasn't it too late, the horse out of the barn? Ross never freed himself from Elizabeth's hold on him and probably never will...Jud's scandalized voice as he spoke to Prudie rang disconcertingly clear in her mind:  
"He was kissing that cow in the churchyard! If I could see it, who else might have?!"  
They hadn't known Demelza had heard them. They wanted to spare her grief before she left for New York. Even Jud and Prudie were more loyal than Ross... Demelza looked at the little box in front of her on the glass counter with all the other decks visible beneath on their shelves inside the case. If only Ross could gaze at her the way the young knight did towards his lady on that card. If only she could know that look existed for Demelza alone... She looked up at the girl,  
"Could I buy these please? And one of the candles?"  
Hugh and Malcolm exchanged another dark look over her head. The shop girl looked Demelza square in the eyes and asked,  
"Do you know which color you want?"  
Demelza chewed her bottom lip. She did not like to admit that she did not know what she was doing. Demelza averted her eyes.  
"No, I don't" she looked up again, "What do the colors mean?"  
The shop girl remained silent for a time. She looked at Demelza carefully, tilted her head sightly and said,  
"You would do well to buy your candle as a souvenir and not burn it. You should not make a game of using spells you don't understand. If you buy this candle, you must not burn it."  
Demelza quailed a little, but she could see the girl was giving her good advice. Quietly, Demelza said, "I promise."  
The girl chose a pink colored figure of the man and woman, side by side and wrapped it in paper. She placed it and the box of tarot cards into a plain brown paper bag. Demelza paid for her purchases. As the girl handed back her change, she said,  
"If you change your mind, you can come back and we can anoint and dress your candle for the spell, but I think you should let things be."  
Demelza looked at the girl and recognized sympathy in her dark brown eyes.  
"Thank you."  
They left the store. Malcolm was alarmed to see a chalked design of occult symbols on the pavement in front of the door that he had not noticed when they went in. He fretted over the idea that he'd stepped on it without realizing it.  
"Thank you, Hugh. That was...interesting." Demelza said in a distracted, far off way. Hugh felt the need to say something to break the tension. Malcolm was ill at ease and Demelza was clearly grasping at straws over the state of her marriage.  
"Perhaps I'll take you to Grandpapa's store, it is less hocus pocus than that one."  
Demelza smiled, "I'd like that."  
"Good," said Hugh, pleased to see her shake out of her troubled mood.  
"Perhaps we can fit it in on Saturday."

Demelza kept her word and never burnt her pink candle. It sat by the mirror of her dressing table at Nampara ( to Ross' distaste ) with its wicks untouched. A photograph of the candle laying on its back on a cloth covered table, strewn with tarot cards, was the cover of her single "If Wishes were Horses (Beggars Would Ride)" b-side, "Bargus Cross".  
It charted at number 13 and its mysterious look made the seven inch 45 a sought after collectible for vinyl enthusiasts and occultist alike.


	5. Have You Ever Been (To Electric Ladyland)

Random snapshots that were printed on the inner sleeve of Demelza Poldark's album

Malcolm uses chopsticks to play Kary-Out Chinese food cartons as if they were drums on the low table in front of him.

Demelza holds the headphones to her ears as she sings into the microphone with her eyes closed.

Malcolm is sitting at his drums and Hugh is standing to his left. They are in deep conversation.

Demelza moving a slider on the mixing desk, sitting next to the engineer.

Hugh and Demelza laugh as they dance in the studio. They smile into each others eyes as he dips her. (Ross detests this photo...)

Demelza talking animatedly into the receiver of a Bell Telephone payphone. The surrounding kiosk is covered in graffiti.

Malcolm lies on his stomach, propped up on his elbows. Demelza is sitting cross legged on the floor next to him. They are both unwrapping Charms Blow Pops, bubble gum center lolly pops.

Hugh sits reclined in his chair at the mixing desk with his feet up. He has his hands behind his head with his sunglasses on blowing a large bubble with his gum.

Malcolm is drumming and about to hit a cymbal.

Demelza sits on a sofa strumming her black Ovation guitar. She is speaking to someone out of the frame.

Demelza and Peter Gabriel play four hand piano.

Malcolm and Demelza nap on the sofa. Hugh is reading Billboard Magazine to their left with a leg crossed over his knee.

Demelza sits astride a bent wood chair, facing it backwards and resting her chin on her hands over the chair's back. Malcolm sits on the floor next to her. They are watching the trumpet players Hugh hired play their parts.

Demelza is wearing Hugh's sunglasses in the engineer booth, grinning.

Hugh, Malcolm and Demelza play in the studio. Demelza has her red Vox. They are in deep concentration.

Red and Blue walk up 8th Street towards Avenue of the Americas. Demelza has her guitar case on her back and Malcolm has a pair of drumsticks in his right back jeans pocket. A little girl is running down the sidewalk with a light blue helium balloon, further  
up the street.

Demelza and Hugh wait to cross the street at 8th Street and 6th Avenue at dusk. The Twin Towers are beyond them in the distance.

Demelza steps on an effects pedal in her stocking feet, holding her black Ovation.

Malcolm drinks from a Gray's Papaya paper cup from a straw. Demelza is playing a baby grand piano in the background, over his left shoulder.

Demelza wears a black mini dress, like a leotard, black tights and her shearling boots. She sits with her elbow resting on one knee and her other leg extends down the stairs.  
Hugh has black, pointed leather shoes, a close fitting black tee shirt and black denim jeans. He sits across the stair in the opposite direction to Malcolm.  
Malcolm rests his outstretched arm on his knee with a loose hold on his drumsticks. The shirtsleeves of his dark patterned shirt are rolled up and he is wearing blue 501 Levis jeans.  
They are on the stairs of the studio's entrance. Demelza sits a few stairs up from Malcolm and Hugh is a few steps up from her. They look directly into the camera with purpose- this is the "band photo"

Demelza sits on the back of a yellow taxi cab. Her legs are crossed in her boots, in an Electric Ladyland tee shirt, short denim skirt and Hugh's trench coat, like a cape around her shoulders. The lights of midtown New York twinkle behind her. She is radiantly  
happy.

The back of Demelza's album has a photograph of Hugh, Demelza and Malcolm walking on the Coney Island boardwalk ( Out of season. It is Autumn ) each holding cotton candy on a stick. Hugh is in front in his dark coat and sunglasses, holding his uneaten. Demelza is next, about to put a pinch of the candy floss between her fingers into her open mouth and Malcolm has several bites taken out of his. Their names are printed underneath.  
Ross rolls his eyes, " For fucks sake! Hugh looks like a vampire luring children away from a fun fair!"  
"Ross!" Demelza laughs like a drain...


	6. White Rabbit

Hugh sat at the desk in his study, once grandpapa's study, and made notes to himself to organize his affairs when he returned back to England. He was considering what advice was best to leave to his young ladies, the women he had worked with in France. For Genevieve, he counseled concentrating on her own songwriting and never work with Serge Gainsbourg. For Claudine, stop trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, since songwriting wasn't her forte, and consider working with Serge Gainsbourg. He made notes in the margins of his agenda. There was much to do and not a lot of time...  
He smiled to hear what had to be Malcolm and Demelza returning from an evening out. They had gone to the Metropolitan Museum during the day and, Hugh supposed, had a bite to eat and perhaps a visit to one of Malcolm's friends in the city. Malcolm knew New York like the back of his hand and had firm membership in the world of session work musicians here. His vantage point had been endlessly helpful to Hugh's plans with Demelza. He had a window into a second layer of the industry that he would not have been able to navigate himself for all his European credentials. Malcolm's easy manner made him well liked and trusted, in turn making Hugh and Demelza well liked and trusted. Hugh's sprinkle of his own fairy dust had meshed the strong fraternity of session players with his contacts at WEA and they were mixing with all levels of the industry to Demelza's benefit.  
Had they come in yet? Was something wrong with the lock? Hugh left the study and came around the corner to see Malcolm and Demelza woozily ambling into the foyer. They were laughing and knocking in to each other. Hugh frowned and walked closer to them.

He could smell them.

"Malcolm! What on Earth have you done? You were meant to be looking after her! How could you let her smoke a joint?! The city's awash in Angel Dust! There could have been anything in it!"  
Malcolm and Demelza kept giggling "I didn't!" Demelza piped up, "She didn't!" said Malcolm nearly at the same time and they started laughing again. Malcolm tried to stop laughing and speak properly.  
"I swear, Hugh, we're just merry from drink! The smoke was so thick about the place, it's just the smell on us, that's all..."  
"Merry from drink, my foot!" Hugh looked from one to the other, " You're high as a fucking kite, the pair of you!"  
"No!" they chuckled.  
Hugh squinted at them. Their eyes were glassy, they did reek of alcohol. He couldn't smell smoke on their breath at least. Hugh put his fists on his hips in consternation, "Where were you?"  
"At a loft in SOHO..." Demelza leaned back against the wall. Malcolm held himself steady with one hand on the wall.  
"Oh for pity's sake!" cried Hugh, "Get in the lounge! Go on! Sit down before you fall down!"  
Hugh helped Demelza to sit on the sofa. She chuckled a bit more, then went silent and looked at Hugh in a very direct manner. Hugh's eyes widened as he recoiled in surprise. Malcolm gracelessly sat next to her and his sudden weight on the cushion turned her attention. They lay on the settee, still giggling but starting to tire out. Hugh frowned over them. An aphrodisiac? They were both off their face, whatever it was. He muttered darkly in French. Malcolm laughed again and told Demelza "He said we'll be the death of 'im!" They whooped with gleeful laughter and Hugh closed his eyes and smirked. The phrase was more wry a joke than they could know and if Malcolm could still understand Hugh's French, perhaps they weren't as badly off as he feared. Still, he would tend them overnight. Having them sat upright where he could keep an eye on both of them was better than worrying over them in different rooms. He did not want them to lie down. He knew people could choke that way.  
He went down to the kitchen, retrieved two glasses and filled a pitcher with water. Hugh brought that to the lounge and set it on the low table in front of him, across from his sleeping charges. He brought the papers he had been working on in the study back with a clipboard and settled on the sofa to continue work there.  
He sighed as he looked from one to the other. He wanted to be angry with Malcolm but he knew the city had changed since they had last been here. Nightlife had become too decadent. Malcolm knew how to watch his back among music people but clearly he and Demelza had their guard down among the art crowd they'd met. It was a trouble everywhere, Paris was no different these days...  
Hugh looked at Demelza's shoes and gave silent thanks that she didn't wear her boots to the Met. SOHO was a labyrinth of dark, cobblestone Streets, pavements that were studded with glass roundels and higher curbs than other parts of the city. In the state they were in, she might have broken her neck in the street in heels. It was a mercy they had been able to pour themselves into a cab and get home. They were snoring now. Hugh bit back a laugh, imagining Malcolm and Demelza clutching at each other and stumbling about like newborn foals. Escaping like Hansel and Gretel, having eaten themselves sick with sweets and managing to leave the witch's lair before they were harmed.  
In one way, their adventure cemented acceptance of the dilemma Hugh had grappled with throughout the day. Now that the second opinion of the New York doctor agreed with the London one, he'd wracked his brain trying to think of a producer he could pass Demelza to after he'd gone. In Europe or the States, he couldn't think of anyone who would continue to help her as he had. Hugh felt that Demelza and Malcolm were two of the most talented musicians he'd ever met. They were both gifted and clever. But, in terms of maneuvering the business side of things, they were babes in the woods. Hugh sighed. He had mapped out four albums in his head for Demelza. If the doctors were to be believed, he would be lucky to finish two. Four years under his wing -maybe only three, Demelza was a quick learner- he might have prepared her enough to navigate her career herself. As it was now, he was cheated of the chance to help her as he intended. He knew that the top brass of the industry would dismiss Demelza as a bit of crumpet. Hugh knew the difference between Demelza wearing her provocative boots because she loved them and strong arming her into a sexy image to sell records and titilate the male gaze. He knew how to guide her through the missing stairs and arcane practices of the business. He couldn't think of anyone who would look after her the way he did. Their idyll was ending before it began. He had to face facts and accept it.  
At least she would still have Malcolm. Demelza would still have her good friend. Sometimes he wished she would throw Ross over and become a proper couple with Malcolm. They clearly adored each other, were both from working class backgrounds. Hugh surmised that Malcolm had an army of loving relatives in Scotland who would bend over backwards to make the woman he loved happy and Malcolm would never dream of being cruel to her. So often Hugh despaired over the genuinely mean things Ross put Demelza through. Some problem had flared up with Ross before they left England. Demelza never explained what it was, but he and Malcolm could see that Ross had broken her heart.  
Hugh loved Demelza deeply himself. In a different world perhaps she would have turned to him and let him care for her and her children as she deserved. He would have treated her like a goddess. As it was, Hugh would die and Demelza would retreat to Nampara. She would tend her children, accept whatever scraps of pin money Ross deigned to give her from their account at Pascoe's Bank and suffer under Ross' whims. It was all too sick making!  
Hugh wanted Demelza to be able to stand toe to toe with Ross, to be indepenent, not accept her meek place at Ross' side. All Hugh had hoped for was turning to ash.


	7. Faith In This Colour

Malcolm McNeil, who was not a stranger to hangovers, woke stiffly, alone in the lounge on the smaller settee with one banger of a hangover. It was morning, though he couldn't tell what time it was and the house was silent. He made his way up the stairs. Red's door was shut. Malcolm assumed she was still in bed and wouldn't be astir for a while. They'd both been dosed at a wild party and the come down was ghastly. He had a wash and dropped to the mattress, back into a black, dreamless slumber.

Demelza Poldark, who was quite unused to hangovers, started to wonder if death might be preferable. She suffered a splitting headache that pills wouldn't shift for hours. She woke in her bed -she had no memory of how she had gotten there. She burrowed deeper under the covers and fell into a fitful sleep.

Hugh Armitage, not hungover at all, was out at a newsstand picking up some magazines. He'd had his coffee at the diner on 3rd Avenue and had already chosen a handsome roast of beef for Sunday and a piece of rump steak that Cook insisted would make a beef tea that would see Malcolm and Demelza right after their harrowing escape from the crazy party they'd stumbled into.

Hugh walked back to the house hoping that Red and Blue were still sleeping. Hugh never called them by their pet names but often found himself naming them in this head that way when he thought of them as a pair. He'd managed to walk Demelza to her bed around four in the morning, satisfied that they were both going to be alright. Hugh worried that they might end up in hospital -they were that out of it. But the anxious time had passed and he could let them recuperate over the weekend.  
Hugh entered the house and checked the lounge. Malcolm had gotten himself upstairs. He gave the meat to Cook, thanked her in advance for her folk medicine and went back to the living room with his newspaper. It seemed like a good day for Mozart.  
Mozart and the quiet gold of October, Manhattan sunlight on a quiet Saturday. The house had the warming smell of good, honest beef broth. Hugh came upon Malcolm and Demelza around noon, sitting at the kitchen table, clutching their mugs of beef tea. They made a mulish pair. Hugh noticed they were sitting farther apart than their usual wont. He didn't think they had quarreled. They looked wrung out, not surprising after the night they'd had -but also a little guilt ridden.  
"Are you feeling better? You two gave me a scare last night."  
Malcolm and Demelza murmured general noises that conveyed they were recovering. Perhaps they were just embarrassed. "It could happen to anyone," Hugh tried to console them, "Especially these days, it's practically like ancient Rome in the clubs now..."  
Hugh turned to the refrigerator, leaning in to get the pitcher of water and suddenly stood back up, alarmed. They looked guilt ridden after being dosed to their back teeth at a SOHO sex party. Did something happen?  
He turned to them again and they blinked back at him with a kind of misery on their faces. Hugh wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he had a responsibility to find out.  
"Are you alright?" Silence  
"Did something go wrong? Were you harmed at that party?"  
Malcolm and Demelza looked at each other as if to decide who would speak first. As it happened they spoke simultaneously.  
"I kissed Red."  
"I kissed Blue."  
Hugh's eyebrows raised. Quietly he asked, "And then...?"  
They looked at him, puzzled. Malcolm said "We stopped."  
Hugh looked from one face to the other. "You're saying you kissed at the party?"  
"No, we kissed in the taxi coming back." Demelza said glumly.  
Hugh fought the urge to laugh. "You're saying that you left an orgy in a loft party, off your gourd on whatever drugs you got slipped there, and all you managed to do is snog in the taxi?"  
Hugh closed his eyes and smirked. If he didn't keep his mouth bitten down on that smirk he would laugh aloud and he could see their irritated glare at his mirth over them. They were too cute to be real.  
Hugh cleared his throat in a second attempt not to laugh.  
"Look, you two are good friends and good people, you wouldn't be human if you didn't fancy each other a little. A kiss isn't the end of the world. You weren't in your right minds last night!"  
They continued to look glum over their mugs of broth.  
"Oh, don't look so tragic! Drink up your broth while it's hot and forgive yourselves. Don't let something that silly come between you!"  
They took a tentative glance at each other but looked away again. Hugh tried again.  
"Demelza, kissing Malcolm off your face on drugs is not your fault or his fault. It's just an unfortunate silliness of whatever the hell they gave you."  
He looked at them both, exasperated. "You both need to put last night behind you. You are very lucky you only ended up with a hangover. There's a lot of dangerous drugs about, it could have been much worse."  
They nodded. And they heard and understood Hugh. It was the result of a situation beyond their control. That was true. That made sense. And they should shrug it off as a silly one off that meant not much of anything.  
As the day went on they felt better and by Sunday night they resumed their camaraderie once more. Hugh was relieved to see them snuggled on the sofa watching a movie on tv as they usually did, without looking troubled anymore. They began a second week of work in the studio. Things were going well. Things on the surface were back to normal. But, under the surface, Hugh was wrestling his health situation, Malcolm was even more lovesick for Demelza than before, and Demelza was torn. She had railed against Ross' betrayals of her and clung to her own virtues as morally superior. She was better than Ross, she felt, for being steadfast and true, even as Ross continued to do as he pleased. She'd been away for a month and a half. Nursing her hurts but also, exploring, creating, enjoying herself, enjoying her friends for Malcolm and Hugh were her friends as well as her band. They were both lovely. They respected her and enjoyed her company. In the thick of the work of crafting music, they were able to keep their heartaches and the stresses of life at bay. As they wound down the studio work and started doing more promotion - interviews, photography- they were still busy enough not to dwell on their troubles. By November they had three strong tracks to use and a handful of good ideas to pursue. They would return home soon. Hugh had one last set of interviews for Demelza to complete. Instead of taking them at the house or the offices of the record company, he decided to let her have one more glamorous perk. The last week before they went home, Hugh booked three days at the Plaza Hotel. They would host industry people, conduct her interviews and relax near Central park. Then, a couple days later, they would return to England.  
Demelza was facing a quandary as her work wound down and her New York adventure was coming to an end. Demelza was missing Ross but she was also trying to decide what loyalty meant in a marriage where Ross had let her down so often. She would turn all manner of ideas in her head during quiet moments. She welcomed a neutral place like a hotel to clear her mind. She started to look forward to three days at The Plaza.


	8. Us And Them

At thirty-three years of age, Hugh Armitage was often the youngest participant in label meetings and professional gatherings of his stature as a producer. He was seen as a bit of a wunderkind and his nickname in the industry and the French media was 'Le Petit Prince'. But Hugh felt himself to be an old soul. He felt as if he'd been born middle aged somehow, a paradox as he had a youthful face. He often felt out of step with modern times. Classical music, poetry and gracious living had been his birthright as his mother was a Boscawen and his father an Armitage, two very grand English families. These old fashioned attitudes gave him a different vantage point when he entered the world of French pop music. He had a larger, grander vision for his projects and artists. He lived in dreams and used them as a springboard to propel his performers to fame. He was very comfortable in a mentor role ( detractors would say Svengali... ) He was used to it, preferred it. He was happy directing things slightly above the performer, "The Boss", so to speak.  
Working with Demelza and Malcolm began that way but, subtly, he started to feel that he'd become their friend, their equal. This was the first project where, along with being manager and producer, he wore the third hat of being the bass player. Directly involved in creating the music not just arranging things. Malcolm and Demelza were both twenty-six, though one could be forgiven for thinking they were younger. Hugh didn't even entertain the idea that he was anywhere as talented as they were. But he did his bit. In a way it was perfect. His sturdy playing was an unadorned underpinning that Malcolm and Demelza could shine against. They were grateful towards Hugh and did defer to him as being in charge, but a fusion occurred at Electric Ladyland Studios one afternoon.  
They were at loose ends, having called it a day, but not quite ready to leave. The sessions were going well and they had not spun off the adrenaline rush of the day. Demelza turned to Hugh.  
"Do you know 'White Room'?"  
"Yes..." He turned to Malcolm who was grinning. Demelza and Malcolm had something communicate between them. Hugh wondered if they might be teasing him.  
"Come on, Hugh," said Malcolm, "Let's have a go!"  
Hugh, Demelza and Malcolm took their places in the studio. It was a state of the art, marvelous place with elegant figured carpets on the floor and every high tech bauble one could wish for with wood paneled walls and beyond them glass enclosed engineering booths.  
Red and Blue smiled at each other, smiled at Hugh and Malcolm clicked his sticks four times...  
They began in a straight cover of the song by Cream. Demelza and Malcolm let Hugh find his rhythm and become more confident. Hugh was still not sure if he wasn't the butt of some joke between them. Hugh would be the first to admit he was no Jack Bruce, but he could play well and he started to expand himself a bit more. He pushed himself out of his paint by the numbers bass line and they took off...

Hugh thought back to that day as he watched Demelza hold court at the cocktail party he'd wheedled out of WEA, the night before they would decamp to The Plaza Hotel. They held it at a brasserie in midtown and Hugh had the happiness of being the producer as well as the bassist and everyone accepting it as so. The executives lauded him, the musicians accepted him as an equal. The demarcation between artist and management was dissolved in a way he'd not believed possible.  
It was a lively party. Malcolm told just about everyone he knew in New York about it and the place was filled with musicians they had met, publicity people, some name artists who had heard that Demelza had booked time at Ladyland and wanted to meet her. The journalists they would speak with at the hotel were all there, and all the Warner label big wigs. Hugh felt lighthearted and happy.  
When Hugh met Malcolm, one of the first things Malcolm asked was could Hugh play bass. At first Hugh assumed it was an expedient way to get things started without having to spend time rehearsing musicians. But, in the middle of New York City, with three completed tracks under their belt, Hugh could see that Demelza and Malcolm had wanted a perfect circle, a tight trio with someone they could trust and get on with. Hugh realized he had closed the circuit. They were at a level, with no inequality between them. They were older and he younger, they were a band...


	9. Little Queen

New York was a mass of contradictions. There were posh places right up against dangerous ones and the quiet, peaceful neighborhood Hugh lived in was in contrast to The Plaza where wealth and unease interfaced. Central Park was beautiful but had a frightening reputation for muggings of unsuspecting tourists. Hugh joked that Demelza would stay in her gilded cage for three days and only go exploring with Hugh and Malcolm in tow to watch their backs.They had a double room for Hugh and Malcolm to share and a marvelous suite for Demelza. She had a sitting room to entertain, a glamorous bathroom and a large bedroom to sleep like a proper princess.  
Hugh was a canny opportunist. He knew that Americans liked people who looked successful, the British liked to feel they knew the pulse of what was happening in New York and New Yorkers liked to see Brits enjoy their city. The Plaza stay wrapped all these truths up with a bow. Demelza charmed the label people, gave light and breezy, interviews that left the journalists enchanted and more apt to write about her favorably. Hugh arranged for Demelza to be seen (and photographed) at Tavern On The Green, sailing a toy boat with Malcolm in the park and three of them taking a carriage ride.The night before they checked into The Plaza, WEA had a cocktail party for Demelza and pictures from it ended up in the music papers back in England. On the second day Hugh, Malcolm and Demelza went to FAO Schwarz, the giant toy department store. She found gifts for Jeremy and Clowance and watched, amused as both Hugh and Malcolm scrutinized every inch of the sprawling toy train display, decorated with little hamlets, city towers and snow frosted woods ready for Christmas. While they were enjoying looking, she stole away and quietly bought them each a New York Central toy engine that she presented to them at Christmas when they were back in England.  
Since Malcolm was spending his evening making rounds to say goodbye to people he knew in the city, Hugh took Demelza out to dinner at a very fancy French restaurant on 50th Street.The formality of the dining was a new experience for her and she enjoyed herself immensely. Demelza and Malcolm often had meals on their own without Hugh but this was the first time she had a dinner on her own with Hugh. They found themselves relishing their meal for two in the elegant candlelit dinning room. They laughed and drank and marveled at each new course. Their dessert was a fanciful meringue, filled with chantilly cream and surrounded by a moat of the tiniest strawberries Demelza had ever seen. Hugh plucked a single berry from the plate.  
"You should make a wish on your first strawberry, Demelza." As she chose one for herself she asked,  
"Are you going to have a wish too?"  
"Yes!" They touched the tips of the small berries together as if they were having a toast. Hugh closed his eyes, opened them, smiled mischievously and popped it in his mouth. He crinkled his eyes as he smiled, "Your turn!"  
Demelza closed her eyes and hesitated. Every wish and daydream she'd mused over in the past few days flit through her mind and, for once, not a one had to do with Ross.  
She popped the strawberry into her mouth and bit down. It was sweet and fragrant and gone in a heartbeat.  
"I hope you get your wish, Demelza."Hugh raised his glass of champagne. "Thank you." They clinked their glasses.  
The air was cool on Demelza's face as the stepped out of the restaurant and had a cab hailed for them. She leaned on Hugh's arm, not quite tipsy but with the extravagance of one who might be. She whispered in Hugh's ear,  
"They say that we Cornish have a drop of french blood in us..." Hugh gave a sly laugh, "If I thought you meant that..."  
On the way back to the hotel, each part of the journey back to Demelza's room hung over them like a dare. The taxi ride, the walk through the lobby, the elevator and Hugh walking her to her door were all charged with sexual energy. They both knew it. They both felt it. They both passed each test without fault. They did not dare to provoke the other into acting on the currents that were just below the surface. They were good. For now. It was not yet 10:00. Hugh kissed her hand.  
"Good night, Hugh. What are we doing tomorrow?"  
"There's nothing on the slate tomorrow. We check out the next day at noon so we only have ourselves to please. You can sleep in as late as you like and we can decide what to do at our leisure." said Hugh  
"Is Malcolm coming back tonight?' she asked.  
"I expect so." She squeezed his fingers gently before she withdrew her hand.  
"Will you call my room when he returns?"  
"Even if it's late?" asked Hugh.  
"Yes, just let me know when he returns."  
"I will do that." he left to return to the room he shared with Malcolm and Demelza shut the door to hers.  
She ran a bath, as hot as she could stand. She spent a lazy hour soaking in the tub and dreaming. She thrummed with the excitement of someone about to do something rash. She closed her eyes remembered the strange loft party and the goings on there. She felt lightheaded and a bit woozy. She leaned against the wall. She struggled to turn her head and saw two men, kissing passionately to her left. On her right she saw a blonde girl on a chaise lounge, sitting between two men who kissed her and strayed their hands all over each other. Demelza watched, unable to look away as the girl freed her breasts from her dress and both men fell upon them, kissing them and her neck. The girl turned from one to the other to kiss their mouths... Suddenly Malcolm leaned back on the wall next to her, chuckling.  
"Red, we have to get out of here, this ain't our scene...."  
They giggled and bent their heads together. Demelza pressed her forehead against Blue's neck and they laughed with all their heart and soul, teetering against the wall.  
"Come on, love. We can get a cab."  
In the cab they were still silly. They drooped against the backseat laughing gently at everything and nothing. The smell of alcohol and marijuana was a sheen over Blue's skin and her own. But she could smell Blue beneath those scents. He smelled gorgeous. "Blue..." They were still giggling. He turned and began to smell her hair at her temple, his lips so near...  
The kiss could not be laid at the feet of one nor the other. It came upon them both like a lighting strike. They deepened the kiss. Demelza put her arms around him and Malcolm began to stroke her thigh. Almost as quickly they pulled away from each other. If they had been in their right mind they might have been embarrassed. But they laughed again as if it was the funniest joke in the world. They paid the cabbie and straggled themselves up the steps to Hugh's house. Malcolm dropped the keys and they laughed at that too.  
The next day they were mortified. Hugh set aside his humor over their predicament and insisted that they shrug it off and chalk it up to a bad experience on drugs. But Malcolm and Demelza each knew it wasn't just being off their head on drugs. They both knew they would do anything to kiss like that again and it upset them to admit it to themselves.  
Demelza dried herself off and toweled her hair. She put on a robe and poured a glass of port. She sat reclined on the sofa, waiting.  
"Yes, thank you, Hugh. Could you both come to my room please?"  
The knock came swiftly. Checking to see that she was covered up in case some other guest should be in the hall when she opened the door and satisfied she was decent, she opened the door, let them in and left the 'Do Not disturb' sign on the doorknob.  
At once both men were on their guard. Demelza had lived at close quarters with them and they had seen her dressed for bed, briefly. They had never seen her in just a robe.  
"Red?" Malcolm didn't dare move. The pale skin against the white robe was distracting, arousing.  
She looked from one to the other and decided the only way to begin was to make her wishes known as plainly as possible.  
"I want to sleep with both of you."  
Hugh closed his eyes, ducked his chin and smiled. Malcolm's mouth fell open as he stared at her in surprise. She stalked past them through the sitting room toward the bedroom. The robe dropped to the floor as she crossed the entrance. She sat at the head of the bed and waited.  
They came in, still dressed. They stood at the foot of the bed and watched her. Demelza lay against the pillows with her hair down her back and about her shoulders, her breasts rosy and perfect, her slender legs stretched out on the large bed. She gazed at them both with a challenge sparkling in her eyes.  
Hugh and Malcolm turned to look at each other. There was no room for words. Saying anything would break the spell around them. Their eyes met and in that moment they came to a gentleman's agreement:  
No competition  
No jealousy  
No one must know...  
They removed their clothes and came to stand on either side of her. They joined her. As they were wont to do onstage, watching each other's cues, reacting to each other's needs, they embarked on a very pleasant evening.


	10. Heaven

Demelza woke, lying on her back, with Malcolm's forehead near her shoulder and Hugh's arm round her waist. She kept her eyes closed and remained still, taking stock of herself before she turned to move in the dim room and perhaps rousing one or both of them from sleep.  
She was content. Her father would have branded her a whorebird and beaten the living daylights out of her. Ross would be apoplectic if he came to know. But Demelza had no qualms about seducing two men in a luxury hotel room in New York City. She had drunk alcohol in the evening, but she could not pretend it was an outcome of drink. She knew that she wouldn't have considered the idea if Ross had not slept with Elizabeth and, from Jud's tale telling, still unable to leave her alone. Having been intimate with three men, she realized she could have been happy knowing only Ross but only now did she realize how different the act could be with someone else. Hugh was intense and treated her like a goddess. Malcolm's respect for their friendship lent a shy, sweet flavor. Ross had the surety and confidence of a man who loved deeply but knew he had her in the palm of his hand. Or did.  
She knew Ross was unhappy with Hugh's influence on her and could see with rising alarm, how she was attracted to Hugh. She couldn't lay the adventure solely out of jealousy that Ross had kissed Elizabeth. Being in a band, trying new things, going to new places, meeting new people and growing as a musician had changed her.  
It was good enough to love someone who was constantly breaking his promises, constantly being made to feel second best. Why not love and make love with two men who always kept their word and put her first and foremost in their life?  
She turned her head and could see Hugh watching her. He kissed her mouth.  
"Try not to wake Malcolm." he whispered, "Come have a shower."  
They left the bed slowly and managed to leave Malcolm sleeping. They showered. Demelza exited first, wrapped a towel around herself and looked in the mirror. They had both been vigorous with her, but took care not to mark her. She looked no different but inside she was very much changed. Hugh finished and dried himself. Hugh stood behind her and they looked at their reflection.  
"Turn to me..." She did.  
"Close your eyes, this is our final kiss and I want you to remember it."  
Demelza closed her eyes and Hugh brought his arms around her. Their kiss was ardent and long. He kissed her eyelids reverently and said,  
"I'm going back to our room. We'll meet to dine at six." Demelza looked up at him as he continued. A smile played on Hugh's lips.  
"Spend time with Malcolm...." He traced her lips with his forefinger and looked into her eyes.  
"I love you. I am your humble servant."  
Hugh went back to retrieve his clothes. She followed, dressed in her robe. He dressed quietly, kissed her hand and left.  
When Hugh returned to his own bed he shed his clothes once more and closed his eyes. He was now even more determined to see Demelza provided for after he was gone. Hugh often worried that keeping his health problems private was unfair to both Demelza and Malcolm but now he was glad of it. They made love as equals with no pity or charity on her part. She'd invited him to love her of her own free will. As he grew sleepy, he spent time remembering their tryst. There were no awkward moments. They embarked on their lovemaking with the same watchful interplay they had on stage. He and Malcolm did not vie for her favor. They both availed themselves of Demelza's gift of a single day. They were now linked for life. Hugh yawned. "The favor of a single day..." He resolved to write her a poem. Demelza was a goddess and deserved to be showered with love and poems. He rolled to his side as he fell asleep, chiding Ross Poldark. Ross had a goddess in the palm of his hand and barely paid her any mind...

Demelza got back into bed as Malcolm woke up. He looked tousled and younger somehow. They exchanged shy smiles.  
"Where is Hugh?' Malcolm asked.  
"He went back to the other room. He said we would leave to have dinner at six," she searched Malcolm's eyes with her own, "He said we didn't have to rush..."  
Demelza leaned in closer to him and they kissed, gently. A light, timid kiss that promised each other a form of loyalty. Malcolm closed his eyes and lay on his back, smiling. Malcolm had fancied Demelza the moment he'd laid eyes on her and never dreamed they would ever sleep together. And now she was giving him permission to be her lover for a glorious short while... He opened his eyes and turned to look at her.  
"Have you had maple syrup?"

They ordered room service and Malcolm had a shower while they waited for breakfast to arrive. Demelza knotted the sash around her robe and slipped the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from the doorknob. Malcolm suggested that they have french toast so Demelza could try maple syrup. When it arrived, fragrant with cinnamon and butter, she took a bite and pronounced it delicious. They ate as the room lightened. Demelza looked at Malcolm over the rim of her teacup, with a rakish curl over one eye and smiling. The 'Do Not Disturb' sign was returned to the doorknob.  
They gave each other permission to stare, to taste, to touch each other. Hidden away from the world, it seemed their greater transgressions were not sex, though they did have sex. Somehow, Malcolm giving Demelza a cheeky kiss on the tip of her nose or Demelza biting Malcolm's ear, sat in his lap, falling out of their robes sharing long, fevered kisses that tasted of tea and cinnamon seemed more wicked than their lovemaking.  
Malcolm lay whispering in Demelza's ear and sang her to sleep even though it was ten in the morning. She purred like a cat and snuggled back closer as he spooned against her. He whispered as her breathing evened out and she coasted gently to her rest,

I love a bonnie lassie, a bonnie bonnie lassie  
She's as pure as the lily in the dell  
She's as sweet as the heather  
The bonnie purple heather  
Demelza, my Cornish bluebell

Malcolm laid his forehead at the nape of her neck. He smiled, but then knit his brows and frowned. You would be hard pressed to see if you were not up against her as he was now.  
Red mentioned that her father had smacked her about. Malcolm came away believing that her da was a hapless drunk with a bit of a temper. Faint, silvered and undeniably crisscrossed all over her back were old scars. They were so thin... a switch...? A belt...? Coat hanger...? 'Christ!', he thought, what kind of sick bastard does that to anyone let alone your own child? Red was the sweetest soul to walk on two feet. Was there no end to the misery in this woman's life? He could hear his Da in his head, he'd told him and his brothers often enough, "If you ever raise a hand to a woman, you're no son of mine!"  
Malcolm was not a religious person.He wasn't a praying sort. But he felt it couldn't hurt. He curled around her tighter. He closed his eyes and had a think. if God knew everything then he might as well speak plain.

God? Red's a mate of mine. You made her beautiful and talented but you aren't looking after her properly. Red don't deserve a da who beat the shite out of the wee lass. She didn't deserve to lose her mam so young. She didn't deserve to lose Julia. There would be some who'd be a nasty piece of work if any of that happened to 'em. But Red's lovely. She's a good woman and a good mam and...even though I'm lying in bed with her right now, she's a good wife, truly she is! She loves Ross and don't deserve him running all hot and cold and giving her grief. You need to do right by her and stop life being so hard on her. Red's got the prettiest smile, let her smile more. Amen.

Maybe there wasn't a god, but maybe there was and it couldn't hurt. God would want fair play, being god and all...There might not be a heaven either. If there was it couldn't be a patch on here and now. No heaven could be as nice as drowsing in this bed, warm and nude with Red in his arms. Nothing could touch that.

Time passed. It was now 4:30. Malcolm lay on his back, propped up against the pillows and Demelza lay back against him with his arms draped around her. They lay quietly, content to lay still before real life resumed. Soon they would have to leave this bed and the joys of the day behind. They knew that Hugh had given them another generous gift in a trip full of his lavish care of them. Weeks ago, Hugh found humor in their dismay over their kiss in the cab. But he must have felt sympathy too as he deftly maneuvered Demelza's Solomonic decision to sleep with both of them into the time for themselves he though they deserved.

Red and Blue kept the secret of their day at the Plaza for life. It was the only piece of information Malcolm kept back from his wife in an otherwise honest relationship. Had his wife asked directly, Malcolm would have been torn two ways, but Cynthia, perhaps sensing that was better left alone, never did.


	11. Red Over White

Flying over the clouds with a British and American Vogue in her lap, Demelza dozed on the plane. She had been repulsed by the main brand of American chocolate as tasting faintly of sick. Somehow though it was what she wanted as she left-but she often craved strange things during her period. She ate her chocolate and the brief resting of her eyes turned into a proper nap. Beside her, Blue read a James Bond novel, For Your Eyes Only. Occasionally, he would stop as he thought about the trip that was ending. One unnerving thing about keeping secrets is how truly easy it can be. It was simplest thing in the world to keep your own counsel, if you've a mind to. They all fell back into their easy friendship as if they hadn't made passionate love in the Plaza, as if it hadn't happened at all.  
Demelza dreamed of Ross and it was a pleasant dream. Ross was walking towards her in the Long Field and took her in his arms and kissed her. The sun was warm and somehow she knew that the children were content inside Nampara and Ross' look of love was for her alone. She woke and tried to enjoy the dream a while longer. She kept her eyes closed and hoped that Ross had not been with Elizabeth while she had been in New York. In some way, she had squandered her wish on a strawberry in that regard. She did not regret her choice. And really, if she couldn't control Ross with a magic candle, a strawberry wouldn't make a difference either. She and Ross were even now, they had both broken the vow they made when they wed. And, upon reflection, she was as unrepentant as Ross. Not that she chose sleep with Hugh and Malcolm out of revenge. Her relationship to Hugh and Blue was a different beast to her marriage to Ross. A different reality. She could, with insight she had gained from her own lived experience, admit that she loved Ross no less. Perhaps Ross loved her no less for all he kept being drawn to Elizabeth. He insisted that he did but only now did Demelza see that it could be possible.  
She turned to look at Blue. He was dozing now. Enjoying a dream in which his rifle was slung over his shoulder, at the edge of the woods. He plucked bits of goldenrod out of Red's hair as he bent down to slant his mouth over hers and kiss her like it was the end of the world.  
Hugh, seated in front of them was awake. He was satisfied that the New York trip had exceeded his expectations. Demelza had song ideas to spare as well as three finished songs to use now. And his Hansel and Gretel had their time to be with each other properly. Which was just as well, thought Hugh, they clearly needed to get that out of their system. (The fact that Demelza was now firmly injected into Hugh's system was not at issue. Hugh felt himself mature enough to leave her alone...)  
She allowed them the right to be her lover and that was no small thing. She bound them to her and they would remain loyal. He was glad of it, that it was all settled now, while they had the time to be alone and unobserved. They wouldn't have that again. From here on in, life would become hectic with many moving parts. He had to hire a tour manager and a full road crew. Because Demelza was a mother (and the extra added problem of Hugh not being quite sure how long he could keep at it) rather than waste what time they had touring venue to venue in Britain, Demelza would finish her album in London and then perform live and on television in England and a fair bit of Europe. He felt that, by slotting her into festivals and doing TV for the various music programs in each country, she could be seen by more people at once and the television footage could keep her in the public eye while she was back home with her family*. She would be at the helm of her own army. She would have to learn to entrust her beloved guitars to her techs, she would play larger crowds and need security along too. Hugh wrote a note to himself reminding him to see if Jinny and Betsy could be persuaded to become formal personal assistants. Warner could pay them to bring the children to meet Demelza on different legs of the tour rather than having to go back and forth to England...  
Demelza gazed at the clouds beyond the plane's window. Strawberry juice staining a cloth covered table, the setting sun turning the clouds flame red, the secret mark of blood, the secrets inside Red herself. Her three men, her passions and her life lived unstained and pure.

* Unbeknownst to Hugh, this strategy, in a later century, had the effect of insuring that there were more videos of Demelza's performances on European TV shows uploaded to YouTube than Ross'. Though seasonal interest from searches for Ross' two "Thy Sweetness" Top Of The Pop performances each December had many thousand more views than her individual performances.


	12. Epilogue: Peel Session

Demelza: A one, a two, a three!

Hugh plays the introduction, the loping bass line that compliments Demelza's singing.

Demelza: There was an old couple and they was poor

Hugh and Malcolm: Tweedle tweedle go twee

Demelza: They lived in a sheep shed without any door

Hugh and Malcolm: Tweedle tweedle go twee

Demelza: An' this old couple ain't got no gold

Hugh and Malcolm: Tweedle tweedle go twee

Demelza: Oh what a poor couple were they were they, what a poor couple were they

Hugh continues the bass line while Malcolm plays the melody by hitting water glasses with a metal spoon, like a xylophone. But before Demelza can take the next verse, the glass with the least amount of water falls to the floor.

*breaking glass*

Malcolm: Bollocks!

Demelza: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Hugh plays "Shave And A haircut Two Bits"

Hugh: The, the, the, that's all folks!

Hugh, Malcolm, Demelza and the Yorkshire TV film crew in the room, fall about the place laughing.

This recording, taken as audio from a Yorkshire Television documentary, with the word "bollocks" bleeped out, was requested and played on the John Peel Show for four consecutive weeks between June and July. This was one play more than Demelza's single on the Peel program at that time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Over White- Siouxsie and the Banshees 1984  
> Heaven- Talking Heads 1979  
> Little Queen- Heart 1977  
> Us And Them- Pink Floyd 1972  
> Faith In This Colour- Duran Duran 1983  
> White Rabbit- Jefferson Airplane 1967  
> Have You Ever Been ( To Electric Ladyland) Jimi Hendrix 1968  
> Supernatural Thing- Ben E. King 1975  
> Stepping Out ( Real title " Steppin' Out") Joe Jackson 1982  
> Hit me With Your Best Shot- Pat Benatar 1980

**Author's Note:**

> $2000 in 1978 is about $8000 in today's money


End file.
